Daphne Lee Martin - Scared Fearless (2018)

Daphne Lee Martin’s love life is an open book on Scared Fearless, the luxuriously furnished fifth album of dark, undulating folk and blues elegance from the Connecticut songstress. Laying bare her soul, Martin explores matters of the heart with refreshing candor and wry humor, as a range of personal experiences and raw emotions fuel autobiographical lyrics that attempt to make sense of modern relationships and find meaning in today’s soulless dating rituals.

Picking at old wounds, while at the same time longing for new adventures, the talented multi-instrumentalist’s messages—starkly delivered in a trembling voice—stand out in sharp relief against a billowing backdrop of violins, pedal steel, banjo, soft percussion, piano and other traditional accoutrements. Angry, yet controlled, country-blues burns “Jack O’ Diamonds” and “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down” leave their sturdy song structures charred in slowly rendered dirges. Smoky and nocturnal, “Willing Violins” is a bluesy torch song that smolders with coy sensuality, as Martin sings, “I know I’ll get no sympathy here.” Not that she wants anybody’s pity, although the aching, ivory-tinkling ballads “Break My Heart Tomorrow,” with its lovely string accents, and “John Henry’s Lullaby” – both so tender and bruised – could use a shoulder to cry on.

Beams of pop warmth and lush melodicism do manage to sneak through the heavy curtains of this beautiful, crumbling mansion of traditional and contemporary sounds. Upbeat and surprisingly buoyant, given its confrontational title, “F—k Tinder, I’m Standing Right Here” mellows out to glowing electric keyboards, as the more old-fashioned “Songbirds” traipses along amiably, its fully fleshed-out instrumentation free of worry. Then again, sadness and melancholy always seem to be waiting around the next corner on Scared Fearless, as Martin saves her most affecting piece for last with “Till We Meet Again,” a touching goodbye to all who share in her romantic confusion.